


Go And Sit Down

by cassandracalls



Series: A Shorter Song [9]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hana Song loves all the pretty girls, Torture, Trans Female Character, Violence, jovial agony, you do not fuck with Hana's girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandracalls/pseuds/cassandracalls
Summary: What better way to celebrate your six month anniversary than with a fancy meal?Not like this, that's for damn sure.This is definitely not a good way to celebrate.But it's Hana and Olivia, what? You thought life would be nice to them?





	1. Bad Look

**Author's Note:**

> **Bold is unintentionally not speaking in English.**   
>  <Triangular brackets is deliberately not speaking in English.>  
>  _Italics is thought._

Sombra had a lot of enemies. 

The thing about enemies is that you don’t need a lot of them, just one will do. Case in point.

 

It was not a comfy chair.

It was not a comfy room.

They were not comfy restraints.

Nothing about this was comfy. Like I said, when it comes to enemies you only really need one.

 

Her breathing was shallow and raspy. The broken ribs were helping with that. The good thing about her broken ribs? None of them had punctured her lungs. That does tend to be about the only good thing you can say about broken ribs. Unless they have punctured your lungs, then there’s not really anything good you can say about broken ribs.

 

She felt nauseous, and she couldn’t say why. It wasn’t that she couldn’t identify any causes. It could be the concussion that she was pretty sure she had. Or maybe it was the abduction and torture, that didn’t tend to be good for one’s constitution. There was the distortion drive that had been jammed into her, preventing all access to her implants. There were just too many possibilities to narrow it down to a specific cause. It was probably a combination of things. Sombra was not having fun.

 

Her throat was dry and scratchy, she was hungry and thirsty and it stank. She hadn’t exactly been given bathroom breaks. Or food. Or water, well, there was the waterboarding, but they gave that an extra flourish by using salt water. The only sustenance she’d had had been her own blood that had flowed down her face and over her lips. She drank it. At that point she was grateful for anything to drink. This was not a fine dining establishment.

Fine dining?

Oh fuck, she had a date with Hana, it was somewhere nice too, somewhere fancy. Hana had been really looking forward to it. So had she, she didn’t do fancy often. It had been six months since the crash where they met and bled on each other. This was special. Hana would kill her if she was late, or torture her at least. Not this kind of torture. Her kind of torture was much more fun. Frustrating as fuck but so much fun. Can’t be late. Was she already late? She had no idea how long she’d been there. Time just slipped away or stayed still or looped back on itself or something. No natural light. No day/night cycle. Lots of pain.

It really could make you lose track of time.

 

There was noise outside again. They were coming back. That was the only time she heard anything from outside the room, when they were coming back. Maybe there would be more questions this time. They skipped the questions in the last two sessions and just went with torture. Taking her eye being the big set piece. Time to sink down again, into herself, to be somewhere, anywhere else.

But the noise was different, off, she couldn’t say what it was but

There was a loud thump.

Sombra lifted her head. It hurt and took longer than she realised. There was a fuzz to her vision as she tried to focus her one eye on the small window in the door in front of her.

She was just in time to see face of the man who’d been guarding her since she arrived here speed toward it, a spatter of blood as the impact broke his nose, a dark figure behind him.

Huh. That was new.

Then nothing but red. Her guard’s blood spurted out from his slit throat coating the window.

Guess this is it. Sombra was always going to have a bad death. It was never going to be a peaceful affair, it was never going to be around people who loved her. It was always going to be brutal and harsh and alone and now as it turned out.

The door swung inward and the man fell down, his blood spraying across the floor, seeping toward Sombra, mixing with the other bodily fluids that surrounded her.

Oh no, her guard was dead. What a shame.

The figure covered head to toe in dark colours stepped into the room.

Well, guess that’s that then, nothing lasts forever. Certainly not life.

* * *

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

It was an occupational hazard. Not all of them were to do with her job, but these ones were.

 

They had stopped asking her questions. It wasn’t that they didn’t want the answers. It wasn’t that they didn’t think they could get them out of her. This part was just for fun. Isn’t it awesome when the one who’s abducted you is a hateful little sadist?

No, no it isn’t.

They could justify it later by saying they were softening her up but everyone in that room knew that wasn’t why.

Her guard’s face appeared in the small window of the door to her cell, there was a click and the door swung open.

Sombra ran her eyes over him, he had a self satisfied look on his face and a knife on his hip. Neither were signs of good things to come, but the knife? The knife, she could use that… if her arms weren’t strapped down, if the chair weren’t bolted to the floor, if she could move at all.

The knife? The knife was not a sign of good things to come.

Could they not just stick to electricity? Wasn’t that good enough? Apparently not. Obviously not since she hadn’t given them what they wanted but at least with electricity there was control there. Now, it was a long, long way from fun but they had been trying not to trash her body too much, keep everything in working order, at least until she gave up what they wanted. You had to actively change settings if you’re electrocuting someone but with a knife if you lose your patience at the wrong time the interrogation is over.

She was fucked. Not the good kind of fucked. And it came with the word utterly before it. 

 

He put his foot on her knee and casually leaned forward, resting his arm on his leg and smiling like he was posing for a really fucked up menswear catalogue. And then pushed down. It hurt. Her leg had nowhere to go. Both of her legs were strapped at the ankle and calf, apparently they took her not getting out of her restraints pretty seriously.

He kept looking at her with his catalogue smile as he drew his foot back and kicked her in the crotch as hard as he could.

She didn’t scream. Not out of stubbornness or spite or bravery, but because screaming just got bypassed.

Pain exploded in her balls, white sparked in her eyes as her head, the only part of her body she could move, jerked forward. She didn’t scream because she couldn’t breathe. But she could gag and retch. Even though her mouth was dry and her stomach empty some bile still managed to burn it’s way up her throat and ooze past her lips to join the vomit and blood that coated her front. To say she wasn’t at her best would be accurate. To say she wasn’t going to get worse would be a lie. 

It was his turn now. The chief piece of shit here, the guard stepped aside to give him room.

He grabbed Sombra roughly by the chin, still slick and gooey from the bile she retched up, and wrenched her head up.

 

“Such a dirty creature.”

 

A tilt of his head sent the guard out as he rubbed his fingers together, feeling the slipperiness left behind by the bile before wiping them clean on Sombra’s hair.

Not actually clean, her hair would have to be clean for that and not stiff from dried blood and sweat. Not that it mattered, it was a gesture intended to show Sombra her place more than anything else.

The guard came back in, carrying a bucket.

 

“Time to clean you off.”

 

The guard moved behind her and she tensed, knowing with absolute certainty that nothing good was about to happen.

She was right.

She felt the cold first. Seeping over and into her.

Then came the sting, in her cuts, in her eyes as the almost frozen salt water poured down over her head and soaked into her clothes while it’s cold soaked into her skin, into her bones. Her body was shaking as she gasped shallow, raspy breaths, tasting the salt on her lips. Wanting to drink the water, knowing that if she did it wouldn’t stay down.

 

“You’ll want to stay still for this. Wouldn’t want me to slip now.”

 

Knife in one hand he gripped her hair roughly in the other, and a predator's sickly smile slowly spread across his face.

 

“Now, don’t blink, you’ll only make it worse if you blink.”

 

The knife moved toward her eye, too close to look like a real thing. She was about to have her eye taken from her and the only thing Sombra could do was as she was told. If she moved there was no guarantee as to how deep the blade would slip into her. Still was the only answer. A difficult proposition when her whole body was freezing and shivering but these were her options, world's worst cataract operation or impromptu lobotomy.

 

The blade hovered close, so close to her eye, too close to be measured in distance. It wasn’t space that separated her from the knife, it was time. Moments. Agonising moments, a deliberate drawing out of the act that made Sombra force herself not to tremble in anticipation. Or cold. Or fear. She forced her lungs into a slow, deep pattern and didn’t fucking blink.

Do you know how hard it is to not blink when something is

right

up

against

your

eye?

Something that will hurt you? That will take things from you? Things like depth perception?

Give it a go, not fucking easy.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Then she could feel it, not see it but feel it as the edge of the blade pressed against her eyeball. 

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

The blade was sharp at least, very sharp, thank heaven for small mercies. Small mercies that Sombra hoped would get the chance to be healed by a large Mercy.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Just the lightest amount of pressure on the hilt of the knife and it peirced her eye with ease.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

The vitreous and aqueous humours mixed and dripped around the tip of the blade, but not for long. Eyes aren’t that large, they don’t hold that much.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Slowly, slowly, slowly, with such deliberate cruelty, as though any part of this wasn’t cruel, he dragged the blade across her eye.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Slicing through the iris.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Tugging and ripping at the lens.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Have you ever dissected an eye?

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Lenses are tricky, fragile things.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Difficult to keep in one piece.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Easier to accidentally tear than cut.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Sombra’s lens didn’t cut.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

Somra didn’t scream.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

He didn’t stop cutting just because he’d reached the end of her eyeball.

 

_...movedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmovedon’t… _

 

He carried on, slicing into her skin, paring her flesh in a straight line from from eye to ear. Only when that was done, blood pouring down her face, her eye a hollow, deflated thing, did he pull the blade away.

 

That is when Sombra screamed.

* * *

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

That much should be obvious by now.

 

Sombra opened her bleary eyes. Her head was tipped forward at an uncomfortable angle and when she tried to move her hands so she could rub some focus into her bleary eyes she couldn’t. 

That was new and different, and not in a good way.

She tried to stand up and couldn’t.

Her chest was strapped down, her arms were strapped down, her legs were strapped down, the only thing she could move was her head. 

New and different in a very very not good way.

She felt disconnected and everything seemed flater, duller and quiet. Far too quiet. She couldn’t hear her implants.

Not

a

single

one

of

them.

She tried to run a diagnostic and got nothing back in return.

She felt disconnected because she was.

It seemed quieter because she didn’t have the constant noise of all her implants and data streams chattering away in the back of her head.

It was that loss, that isolation that made her feel far more trapped than any number of restraints or locked doors ever could.

And that was when the door opened and he walked in.

It was him, of course it was him. Who the fuck was he? Sombra had no clue. Didn’t recognise him at all. 

There was only one thing for it.

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

 

He had an answer but it wasn’t helpful. It was a punch.

Now punches can answer some questions, questions like ‘are you going to punch me?’ and ‘are you going to punch me again?’ but they’re not very good at answering ‘who the fuck are you?’

 

Her head snapped to the left, pain flared in her face and she tasted blood. Her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek.

 

She gave her jaw a wiggle - ouch - and looked at him as she spoke.

“I have this ex, real piece of shit, real good at pretending to be nice. Doesn’t do much of anything these days. He hit me harder than that.”

 

Another punch, this one broke her nose. She tasted even more blood as it covered the bottom of her face and dripped onto her chest.

 

“I am going to ask you questions and you are going to answer them. You’ll hold out at first because otherwise how would I have any fun? But you will answer them.”

 

Sombra was about to respond when she heard the crackle of electricity behind her and realised someone was standing there. Had been standing there the whole time. 

She felt the electrodes connect with her temples and then she felt pain.

 

That was when Sombra started to scream.


	2. The Wrong Date

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

It was something that Hana worried about at times. She wasn’t worrying about it right now, but she would be soon.

 

It was a nice place. It was a very, very nice place. The kind of place that was too good to have a dress code because if you’re the kind of person the press follows around then who gives a fuck if you’re wearing jeans?

Hana was not wearing jeans. She was elegant and beautiful and alone and wondering if she would have to kill Sombra.

Six months, six months they’d been together now and Olivia was getting dangerously close to being late. Six months was like seventy years in Hana relationship time and she was waiting for her date to turn up for their anniversary meal.

Some couples liked to recreate their first date for their anniversary, for Hana and Olivia that would mean losing body parts and almost dying so a meal seemed like the better option. The better option, but not necessarily the option they get. Even if picking up the check wasn’t as romantic heroine as cutting off your own leg.

 

It wasn’t the kind of place she tended to go, for all her celebrity she was a brat in the military with a pastel punk ex-military mom and an activist dad, paying that much for a meal never felt right to her so she eased her conscience by leaving massive tips. It also helped that she knew someone who worked her and she knew they treated the staff well. She knew one of the servers, her server for the night. Her name was Carmen and she’d told Hana about the cancellation that gave her a table.

She was a fan, but then this was Hana ‘D.va’ Song we’re talking about, so who isn’t at least a little bit of a fan? According to Hana anyway.

 

They met at a convention, Carmen was in the middle of a costume disaster and Hana, being an experienced conventioneer, had needle and thread with her so she helped out. Yeah, it meant that the queue of people waiting for an autograph or a picture or to get their fingers broken because they thought public figure meant public property, stopped moving for a bit but what else could she do? And it turns out that costume fixing is the perfect time to chat and Carmen was sweet, and funny, and nerdy in all the right ways for Hana. Somehow Carmen ended up sitting behind Hana’s table and that is where she spent the rest of the day. It made the day better and brighter so they got drinks and they got drunk together after and they danced and Hana didn’t fuck her. I wasn’t that Carmen wasn’t cute, she was cute, she was suuuuuper cute and Hana could have spent hours traveling over every curve and stretch mark on her ample body and it was tempting. Very tempting. But while Hana was a horny cow, she was also a professional and she didn’t fuck her fans or hook up at conventions. They stayed in contact, Carmen moved from fan to friend and they met up outside of conventions. Now I’m not saying they haven’t had a night of Hana spending hours traveling over every curve and stretch mark on her ample body since then. That’s it, that’s all I’m not saying.

Anyway, whatever night may or may not have, but definitely has, happened isn’t what we’re talking about right now.

 

She gave Hana a little smile whenever she went past, Hana would smile back but she was busy finishing off a glass of wine so an eyebrow smile would have to do. It was nice wine. It was not cheap wine. It was not her first glass. It was going to cost her a small fortune in drinks.

She didn’t like it, sitting there on her own, waiting. It didn’t feel right. She didn’t feel right. She felt. She felt nervous is what she felt. Her, Hana ‘I’m Like A Goddess’ Song felt nervous over waiting for a girl. She didn’t do nervous. She did death-defying and danger and amazing awesomeness, but not nervous. What was she? Sixteen again? The nervous realisation made her gulp down another glass of wine and the bottle was somehow mysteriously empty.

 

What happened next went something like this:

 

Carmen saw the empty bottle and cocked an eyebrow.

Hana gave her a half smile and a slight nod.

Carmen rolled her eyes at Hana.

Hana gave Carmen a sheepish grin.

A full bottle of wine appeared on her table.

 

“<I can’t believe you have a girlfriend.>” Carmen said as she filled Hana’s glass.

 

“<What? I’m adorable!>” Hana spoke in her accented spanish.

 

“<Yeah, but you’re you.>”

 

“<humph!>” She pouted at Carmen as she left the table, returning to being aghast at being nervous.

 

Hana checked the time. Yep. Olivia was now late. Okay, it was only five seconds late, seven seconds, eight, nine, look time just kept on passing and she wasn’t going to be magically on time now so Hana did the sensible thing.

She took out her phone so she could find out where Olivia was. She needed to know the location of her next murder victim.

And Olivia was… nowhere? That, that wasn’t right. She could always find her, that was the point. It was probably just a blip in the program. She closed the app and restarted her phone.

And there she wasn’t. 

Not right, not right, not right.

It’s fine, something has just gone wrong, nothing to worry about, something has just gone horribly wrong. She made a call.

 

“Hana! What’s u…”

 

“Lena, you sober?”

 

“Yeah wha…”

 

“I need fast transport. Now.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Sending you the pick up location.”

 

She ended the call and stood up, downing the only glass of wine she’d get to drink from the second bottle. She put enough euros on the table to pay for the two bottles of wine, then doubled it and quickly moved to the exit.

 

“<Hana?>” Carmen was clearly worried.

 

Hana gave her a tight smile.

“<Emergency came up. Call you later.>”

 

She nodded and watched as Hana sped to the door.

 

‘There soon. Kinda buzzed. Will be on base for 10. Need to leave sober.’ She messaged Mercy on the way to her exfil.

 

She ran through her options on Sombra’s locator program. Normally she only had real time but real time was getting her nothing.

 

‘Understood’ 

Mercy’s text was short and to the point. One of the benefits of being Hana Song, when you treated something like an emergency people assumed it was.

 

She made another call.

“Athena!”

* * *

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

Hence part one of this story.

 

Mercy had been waiting with a shot in the hanger when D.va touched down.

 

“Wait here!” She barked at Tracer as she ran to her room.

 

“ATHENA!” She yelled in the corridor as she pulled her dress over her head and threw it to the floor.

 

“I’m here Hana.”

 

“What have you got.” She barely slowed as she hopped out of her tights.

 

“I’ve managed to gain some archival access and can pinpoint Sombra’s time and location before she went offline.”

 

“She still there?” D.va unclasped her bra and to the floor it went, turns out it wasn’t getting laid underwear she needed that night.

 

“Unknown but unlikely.”

 

“Can you track what happened to her after that?” She was naked when she slammed through the door and into her room.

 

“I can try, although it would involve activities that are not considered legal.”

 

“Please. She’s needs me.” She pulled on a more appropriate outfit for what she was expecting before going to the safe hidden in her wardrobe.

 

“...Of course. I will need some time.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

D.va pulled out the gun Jesse had given her for her 21st, she had hoped she wouldn’t need to use it, but life has a tendency to beat hope into the ground. After sliding one of the clips into the gun and putting it in her shoulder holster she slipped the other clip into her jacket pocket.

Next was her knife, anonymous and sharp. She’d made it herself, the result of a day in the workshop with Bridgitte where she learnt how to temper steel. It wasn’t the most fun she’d had getting hot and sweaty with Bridgitte but it was a good day. The blade was strong and sharp, the hilt was just tape. She placed it in the sheath on her hip and zipped up her jacket so they were out of sight.

The last thing she grabbed was a mobile phone, clean and disposable. She turned it on and punched in a number.

Three rings and it was answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“It’s me, I’ll be on this number tonight.”

 

“Understood Hana, it’s odd, I can hear you on the base and on the phone at the same time. The delay has a tickly feeling.”

 

She’d called a number that had been set up for Athena that didn’t lead back to overwatch.

 

D.va picked up her regular phone and sent Tracer the coordinates for her drop off before tossing it back on the bed. And she was running back to the hanger.

 

She had lied to Angela, she was on base for six minutes, not ten.

* * *

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

D.va knew this. D.va also knew that number was about to drop.

 

She wanted to go fast. She wanted to push the car to it’s limit. She needed to not be noticed. What she did was drive carefully. Reckless driving in a stolen car with an illegal gun do not make for a happy ending if you catch the wrong person’s attention.

 

Athena had a probable location for her by the time Tracer dropped her off. Tracer hadn’t wanted to leave, had wanted to help, but that wasn’t an option. Not with what D.va knew in her bones was going to happen.

 

Wind rushed into the car through the window she’d broken when she stole it. Car theft was a skill Sombra tried to teach her at one point. The memory of it made D.va smile, the surprise on Sombra’s face when it turned out she didn’t need teaching. Hana Song knew how to survive if she was ever left out in the cold.

 

She drove into the derelict part of the city. D.va was just about old enough to remember when it wasn’t so normal for cities to have a derelict part. Well, at least nothing was on fire, or at least nothing was on fire yet anyway. 

 

She gave herself a half mile to walk, not wanting to give anyone a heads up that she was coming.

 

She knew Athena was right the second she saw the place. It’s not that you didn’t get people out here but it was the wrong part of the dead zone for the homeless encampments and the two people out front were clearly on guard.

They were not professionals. They were trying to act like they weren’t there as look outs but they clearly were, they were also pretending that they weren’t armed. Pretending but doing a piss poor job of concealing it. If you knew what you were doing, knew what you were looking for it was obvious they were strapped.

D.va could take them both out from her vantage point. Two shots and they’d both drop but gunshots would make it kind of obvious she was there. She didn’t have a good route to them without being visible so she circled round back, quiet and low.

The wall there was still in place, but not difficult to scale. D.va held herself there, muscles in her arms tense and locked in place as they supported her weight and she scanned the area. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. So she waited, keeping still and maintaining watch. Her arms started to burn with the effort of holding her body up. What she was seeing was accurate.

The back was empty, no patrol, no guard, nothing. 

Could they really be that incompetent?

Yes, yes they could.

D.va pushed herself up over the wall and dropped silently to the floor and was spotted by no one because they didn’t have the sense to watch the back. Fucking amateurs. How did they get the drop on Sombra?

So to the front, and of course they weren’t checking their peripherals. There was a part of D.va that thought this had to be a trap, something to lure her into a false sense of security. But it wasn’t, they just didn’t know what they were doing and they clearly weren’t expecting company.

 

D.va was behind them and they had no idea.

Fast and quiet. She couldn’t take one out without the other noticing but she could move fast enough that it wouldn’t matter.

 

She was right behind them, knife in hand and she moved in.The first one’s neck was just an open wound before they realised she was there. Blood sprayed out from his throat as D.va pushed him to the floor.

 

“What the fu”

 

D.va drove the blade up through the underside of his jaw and twisted. She felt the warmth of his blood as it flowed over her gloved hand, some of it spilling down her sleeve as she guided him to the floor. The darkness of the night made it seem like inky black pools were forming around the dead bodies as D.va moved towards the door, a trail of bloody footprints behind her.


	3. This Is Not An Exit

Sombra had a lot of enemies.

It was always going to catch up with her eventually.

 

Sombra looked at the figure in the doorway. It was not a pretty sight, it may have looked better with depth perception but I doubt it. Blood dripped from the knife in their hand, and pretty much every other part of them. Her guard was clearly not the first corpse of the night, Sombra wondered if she would be the last.

Speaking of the knife, it clattered to the floor and there was a strangled gasp.

 

**“What did they do to you you?”**

 

Sombra didn’t know the words, but the voice, the voice she knew.

 

“...H...Ha… na…?” When she spoke there was almost nothing there, it sounded like a corpse whispering in the desert.

 

“I’m here, I got you.” She was there and she wasn’t done here so she pushed the emotion out of her voice and out of her, at least until she was done here.

 

She crouched down to retrieve her knife. Between the gloves and the blood on the floor that now coated it getting a grip on it was harder than expected. There may have been a few fumbles.

 

When her bonds were cut the first thing Sombra felt was relief. The second thing she felt was pain and weight as full feeling began returning to her limbs.

 

“...dis...tor...tion… neck…”

 

Hana saw it immediately. It had just been stabbed into her, almost on her spine. It was lucky that it hadn’t paralyzed her. No, not luck, deliberate. If you’re going to torture someone, you want them to feel it. 

 

As soon as it was out of her Sombra felt the world rushing back, could hear the background drone of information coming from her implants. She wanted to cry out, to laugh, to dance, but instead she just slumped forward into Hana, who was helping her up onto legs that wouldn’t support her weight, half guiding, half carrying her over the bodies on the floor, down the corridor and through the second door on the right.

 

Sombra didn’t know the layout of the building so didn’t know they weren’t going towards the exit. She also didn’t know that Hana had a gun in the hand that wasn’t supporting her.

 

It was not what he was expecting to come through the door. Someone covered in blood, half carrying the girl he’d been torturing, pointing a gun at him. He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to go well for him. He wasn’t wrong. The gun never left him as Sombra was lowered into a seat.

 

“Are there any cameras or recording devices here?”

 

“Yes.” He lied but it wasn’t him she was asking.

 

“...no…”

 

“Good.” Hana pulled off her mask.

 

“But...but you’re…?” The confusion in his voice was obvious.

 

“I know who I am. Get your phone out.”

 

He hesitated.

 

“Do you want me to shoot your dick off?”

 

He stopped hesitating.

 

“Call your boss.”

 

“I don’t have a…” His nose getting broken stopped him before he could finish.

 

“Someone as incompetent as you doesn’t get this far without being told what to do. Call your fucking boss.”

 

He dials the number and, at a gesture from Hana’s gun, gets down on his knees.

 

“Find them.”

 

Sombra gave a small nod in response.

 

The phone rang

 

and rang

 

and

rang

 

and

 

“This is not a good time.” There was the sound of people having fun in the background.

 

“I am so sorry but this is important.”

 

If he was surprised by the voice he didn’t show it.

“Ah, and what can I do for you Miss Song?”

 

Hana, however had not expected that.

“...”

 

“Well it’s not as though anyone else cares enough about the girl to help her.”

 

A message with a name appeared on the phone screen.

“And I did care about her. You cost me my leg, fine, I got a new one, friends made it for me, beautiful thing, amazing piece of engineering, love it. But you kidnap, torture and kill my girlfriend?”

 

“So she’s dead?” Disinterest in his voice.

 

“No Adrian,” This time he was surprised. “I’m talking now. You killed my girlfriend.” Sombra had pulled camera footage of the party he was at. Hana smiled, that was perfect. “Say hello to Thespion 4.0 for me, I haven’t seen him since the Hero of my Storm premiere. Enjoy the party.”

 

She hung up and tossed the phone to Sombra. That was a mistake. 

Sombra was not at her best. 

Sombra did not catch the phone.

Sombra let out a high pitch whine as the phone hit her already tender genitals.

 

“Oh my god, I’m so so sorry. Sorry.”

 

“So,” The man on his knees spoke, seeing a chance to live through this. “you want me to sell them on her being dead. That’s the only way they’ll buy it if she’s not her with the other bodies.”

 

Hana gave him a maternal smile.

 

“Thanks but no, you don’t need to worry about that.”

 

The muzzle flash of Hana’s gun was the last thing he ever saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have part 9.  
> Don't worry, something nice will happen at some point, eventually.  
> We're heading towards the end now, just a few more parts left to go, unless I'm wrong about that, which is entirely possible.  
> So, chapter 1, hope that you could tell that each section took place before the one before it.  
> Why am I so incapable of just doing a straight forward narrative? (Not that I can really do anything straight.)  
> As always comments are appreciated but criticism helps to get you into the good place.


End file.
